Endearingly, Hopelessly Tragic
by CharlieTrout
Summary: This is a fanfic about Darren Criss that once it gets going will center around Glee. Its told from the POV of Natalie Pierce, who is a fictional character.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Everyone is entitled to have certain defining moments in their life. Some of them are good, some of them are bad, but all of them shape you into the person that you are and determine the future that you set for yourself. At some point, you will be so beaten down and broken, reeling from the blackened bruises suffered by hitting rock bottom, that you will smile and be uplifted by the knowledge that it literally cannot get worse. You have nowhere to go but up. Life can only get better from here.

Unfortunately, there isn't an equilateral warning for the flip side. The moment when all the pieces of your puzzle are finally in place and the world makes sense. The moment when you take a deep breath, look around and smile with the satisfaction that you have "made it." This is the point where books and movies usually end with "happily ever after" or "then she got all she ever wanted" or "all her dreams came true." Nobody ever tells you that it's a vicious cycle. You assume your rock bottom will be followed eventually by your sky high, but never get warned that there is another rock bottom waiting for you to fall into it. And fall into it, you will.

Now here I sit, woefully in my second rock bottom. It seems like only yesterday I was enjoying my sky high. That is where my story should have ended. How fair is it that my descent started only hours after I reached the top? And not just your average, every day romantic comedy top… The Top. I didn't need a man at The Top; it was a man that took me to my first rock bottom. I rose to The Top like a phoenix from ashes. I took my broken heart and soul and turned it not into gold, but into platinum. Literally, platinum.

I poured vodka in my mouth and my heart onto the pages of every piece of paper I could find. I'd never been so drunk or so honest in my entire life. I have no idea how my poetry ended up in a song database for a major record label. Maybe I submitted it in a rare moment of self confidence. More realistically, maybe my roommate submitted it in hopes that something would happen and I would come out of my six month drunken stupor.

How it happened doesn't matter, what matters is that it did happen. It changed my life. In just a few short months I went from being a heart broken college sophomore wallowing in self pity to an accomplished song writer, creating musical magic with an artist whose career was supposed to have been over.

David Cook. You might recognize the name from the on air talent show American Idol. It had been three years since he won the show when we met, and his career was a standstill. He had been browsing songs for inspiration when he came across some of mine. "Endearingly, hopelessly tragic" he called them. Of course my writing was poetry, but being a writer himself he was able to work most of them into a melody. When we met for the first time and he played guitar while singing the words that I had written, I cried like an blubbering idiot. We were bonded from that moment, two artists' souls coming together to create a masterpiece of heartache. We called it The Break-up Album. Not exactly a genius title, but it got the point across. It flew off the shelves like bottled water during a hurricane.

That brings me to The Top. It was mid-February in Los Angeles, California. A long way from home for this southern girl, but that night I felt like I was at home. Only nine months after our first meeting, David and I accepted a Grammy for Song of the Year. Backstage, we sipped champagne and celebrated. I was star struck. The Grammy's are quite a big step for someone's first red carpet event. I felt like I was going to pass out almost every time I met someone. Sure, David was a star, but I had gotten used to him. Here I was being congratulated by people whose Walk of Fame stars I had taken pictures with earlier that week.

It was that very night that I began my descent. I was sitting at a table, enjoying a rare moment of silence alone and gazing in wonder at my Grammy. For some unknown reason, I felt compelled to look up. And there he was. Unkempt wavy dark hair, sexy five o'clock shadow, and big brown eyes looking right at me. He smiled a perfect, charming smile. My heart skipped a beat or two. I smiled in return and then quickly looked back down at my Grammy.

"Hi." His voice was velvety smooth as he sat in the chair next to me. I could hear the smile in his voice before I even looked up. He held his hand out to me politely, "I'm Darren."

Darren Criss. How to describe him? Devilishly handsome, but in a non-threatening way, if that's even possible. I first saw him in a YouTube video where he played Harry Potter in a musical theater troupe's own version of the popular book series. He was clever, funny and talented. It was months later that he appeared on Glee, a quirky musical TV series, and he won the hearts of millions. It had been smooth sailing for his career since then, with numerous Billboard hits and even a successful stint on Broadway.

I smiled back calmly and took his hand. "Natalie."

It wasn't exactly a hand shake. It was sort of old fashioned actually, and I half expected him to kiss the top of my hand. Instead he said, "Its really nice to meet you, Natalie. I just wanted to say congratulations on your win. I've heard the entire album, and its really moving."

It was such a sincere and unexpected compliment, how could I not have blushed and smiled at that? "Wow, thank you," I stammered. I felt the need to let him know that I knew who he was, and that I appreciated his work as well. "I've been trying to play it cool tonight surrounded by celebrities, but I have to geek out for a minute and tell you that I'm a huge fan. 'Not Alone' is one of my favorite songs ever." Okay, I probably should have thought that through before I opened my mouth.

He laughed and it was beautiful. "From a songwriter such as yourself, it's a true compliment." He glanced up to the bar on the other side of the room where David was getting us another round of champagne. "So are you and David…?" he trailed off, not really completing his question.

I shook my head, because I knew what he was getting at. We had to answer that question often. "No, no, not anything like that. We get asked that a lot, like people think working on an album of sad break-up songs is romantic or something." I laughed nervously, and I was relieved when he laughed with me.

"I guess I see your point."

Several seconds later, I became aware that we were in an awkward silence. I must have gotten lost in his deep, soulful eyes. I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks as I rushed to think of something to say.

"I decided to just get a bottle." I was started by the sound of David's voice as he took his seat across the table from me. He looked over at Darren and smiled knowingly. "Hi, I'm David."

"Darren," he answered, reaching out and shaking David's hand. "I was just congratulating Natalie on the success of your album. Its really great."

"Why, thank you. We worked very hard on it." David leaned back in his chair with a bemused smirk. He glanced and me and raised his eyebrows a bit.

Once again, we were surrounded in an awkward silence, which was odd considering that the room was actually quite loud. I could not have been more embarrassed. David was looking at me, I was looking at David, and Darren was looking back and forth between the two of us trying to figure the situation out. It was horrid.

"Right. Well, I should get going," Darren said, finally breaking the silence. He stood up and turned towards me. He smiled his heart wrenchingly beautiful smile, touched me lightly on the shoulder, and said "It was very nice to meet you, Natalie. Congratulations again."

I sighed inwardly as he walked away and fought the urge to turn and watch him go. I shot David a menacing look as I heard him chuckle from across the table.

"What?" he asked innocently, holding his hands up in the air.

"Could that have been more awkward?" I said accusingly.

He shook his head and poured champagne into the two glasses. "Probably not, if I'm being honest." He slid one flute across the table to me. "Don't worry though, I've seen that look before. I've given that look before." He glanced briefly behind me, and I could only assume he was looking at Darren. "You will be seeing him again soon, trust me."

I couldn't help but smile a bit at those words. We had a strange friendship, David and I, but it worked for us. I took a long drink of my champagne, and decided to enjoy the rest of my night. Of course I spent most of it pretending to casually glance around the room hoping to make eye contact with Darren again, but he was gone. I didn't see him again that night. But David wasn't wrong- I did see him again soon.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"You do realize that is eight o'clock on a Monday morning and I have no job, right?" I asked, irritated and blinking my eyes repeatedly.

"Of course," answered a much too cheerful David as he pushed his way past me and into my apartment. "But I was in the neighborhood. And I brought breakfast." He held up a paper bag and two stacked cardboard cups with a proud smile.

I followed him with heavy feet toward my dining room table. Not that I had a dining room in my teeny tiny apartment, but I did have a table. "Why on earth were you in the neighborhood?"

He laughed as he sat down at the table and pulled bagels out of the paper bag. "Some of us have a life, you know."

I rolled my eyes as I sat down across from him and reached for one of the unmarked cardboard cups. "Juice or coffee?"

"Coffee. I figured you'd need it."

"I do." I nodded appreciatively and took a cautious sip. "That's amazing, where did you get this?"

"Some little random place I stumbled into. Couldn't even tell you the name of it or where it was," he shrugged and unwrapped a bagel.

"An everything bagel?" I asked suspiciously, reaching for the one he'd brought for me. "Are we feeling nostalgic about our time in New York?"

"You just can't get good bagels like that in California," he answered in defense.

I shook my head and took a bite out of the bagel. "Holy hell." It was delicious. "_Where_ did you get this?"

"From an angel," he sighed, closing his eyes as he chewed.

Okay, it was official. My friend had lost his mind. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and realized I was looking at him like he was completely crazy. "Sorry, the barista was hot. I really can't remember where the place was. I've been all over the world this morning."

"I will never understand morning people," I grumbled, taking another drink of my coffee. "So what brings you here?"

"I was hoping I could get a little preview of the new songs you're working on." He looked at me quite seriously."

"No," I held my palms up. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"I'm not trying to offend you or anything, but I don't want to get pigeon holed," I explained. "If I start sharing the words with you, you're going to start singing them and put them to a melody. Then you're going to want to use it, and I won't want to tell you know. Then I will be David Cook's co-writer forever and I will never be able to sell a song to anyone else."

He laughed at me like that was a ludicrous thought. "I haven't seen anything you've done for months. I promise I won't try to trick you into giving it to me. I just want to see where your head is at." He paused to gauge my expression. "Friend to friend, I promise."

"Okay fine, but you don't get to use the friend card again for a month." I took another bite of my bagel and stood up.

"Yay," he squealed in mock excitement, clapping his hands together. He followed me to the living room and sat on the couch.

"Do you want the scribbles or do you only want to see what's finished?" I asked, ruffling through notebooks and several sheets of paper.

"The scribbles never made sense to me, let me have the finished ones," he said, holding his hands out.

I grabbed a notebook with a blue paisley pattern on the front and dropped it into his hands. "Everything that makes any sense is in this one. I'm gonna take a shower while you read."

"You're the most modest writer I've ever met," he mused, shaking his head and opening the notebook. "I'm surprised you don't sit here and watch me read, trying to analyze my facial expressions or something."

"Ew, definitely not," I shook my head and headed down the hallway. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt from my closet and went back to the bathroom. I shuddered as I looked at myself in the mirror. Brown hair in a haphazard ponytail, yesterday's makeup smeared across my face, flannel pajamas. I was a mess.

It wasn't lost on me how strange it was that I was okay with David seeing me look this terrible, but I got nervous about him reading the songs that I had written. For most people, the way I look right now would be considered a vulnerable state. My best friend would never in a million years allow another person to see her looking like this. For me though, the lyrics were when I was at my most vulnerable. Everything I thought, everything I wanted, everything I needed- I wrote it all down. Granted most of it was a scribbled, rambling mess, but it was still very personal to me.

I walked over the shower and turned the water one. Taking a deep breath, I resolved not to think about the fact that David was in my living room at the moment, practically staring into my soul. I undressed and stepped into the shower. Normally I would turn on Pandora and take a long shower while singing obnoxiously loud, but since I had company I decided a quick, quiet shower was probably best.

Once I was out and dressed, I stalled in every way possible. I blow dried my hair, put on makeup, and even painted my fingernails. When I finally couldn't think of any other reason to stay locked up in the bathroom, I made my way back to the front of the apartment.

To my surprise, David was still studying my notebook. Wait, no. He was looking in the purple one with a shadow tree on the front. That was a scribble notebook. "I thought the scribble didn't make sense to you," I said as I sat on the couch next to him.

"Well you were taking so long, and I was curious," he answered, closing the notebook and leaning back to look at me straight on. "Natalie, this is really good."

I fought back a smile and hoped I wasn't actually blushing. "Thank you."

"I'm just a little confused about something." He crossed his arms and looked at me much in the way a father would if he was getting ready to catch his daughter in a lie.

"What is it?"

"Who is the guy?"

I laughed in spite of myself. "Oh my gosh, I thought you were going to have a serious question or that there was something wrong with the lyrics."

"That _is_ a serious question, Natalie Pierce," he said sternly. "All of your work is inspired, and this is no exception. You've obviously met someone, and I want to know who he is."

His serious demeanor was hilarious to me. "I really don't know what you're talking about. This isn't about anyone in particular."

He reached over me and grabbed a pink and blue striped notebook off of the coffee table. "This," he opened it and pointed to the chicken scratch all over the page, "is not your average, every day, generic lovey-dovey crap."

My eyes widened as I realize he was being serious. I shook my head. "I have not met someone, David. I'm not seeing anyone. I've just been feeling inspired lately. I think it's the weather or something, its been so nice out. And I've just been feeling so good since the Grammy's…"

"Aha!" he yelped, jumping forward in excitement. "That's it! It was the Grammy's!"

"Well yeah! I mean, who doesn't feel inspired after winning a Grammy?" I asked incredulously.

"No, no," he shook his head. "It wasn't the Grammy. It was who you met _at _the Grammy's."

I hadn't thought about that random meeting with Darren Criss for a few weeks, and being suddenly and unexpectedly reminded of it caused my face to flush.

"Oh, that is so what it is," David said proudly. "This is pathetic. You know you can just go on his website to find out where he is going to be, right?"

"Its really not that serious," I denied. "We met one time, and I have a fan girl crush on him. Its not like we had magical conversation together. We hardly had more than 60 seconds of interaction."

"Apparently that is all that it takes," he laughed, gesturing toward my pile of scrap paper and notebooks. "All of this is about wanting to fall in love, falling in love, wanting someone who is out of reach… Come on, Nat. You can't seriously be this far in denial."

I looked from him down to the place on my coffee table where apparently I had laid my heart. "Okay, maybe I was inspired from our brief moment together." Okay, I could admit that much. "But if that is the case, it was all subconscious."

"That is…" he paused mid response, as if trying to think of the right word. "Pitiful. Just pitiful."

"Shut up," I groaned, tossing a throw pillow in his direction.

He ducked out of the way and laughed. "So do you have any potential singers lined up?"

"A few," I nodded. "Nothing set in stone yet, but I've got a couple of meetings next week."

"Okay, well let me know how it goes," he said, standing up. "Don't forget that my name is always in the hat when it comes to your songs."

"I knew you would go there! I thought it was strictly friend to friend?" I complained.

"Nat, Nat, Nat," he clucked his tongue. "Its like you don't know me at all. Anyway, I've got to get going. I'll talk to you soon."

"Yeah, yeah, get out of here," I waved him off in mock anger.

After he left, I laid out on my couch and thought about what he'd said. He was probably right about my newfound inspiration. I'd filled four notebooks of snippets and verses in the weeks since I'd met Darren. That was four more notebooks than I'd written in the six months before I met him.

If I could get that much inspiration from just one little conversation, I could only imagine what I could get if we actually went out on a date. It was a long shot though. I knew I would be better off just going out and trying to meet someone else. Besides, a theme album was what had worked for me before. Maybe my next project would be a "ready to fall in love again" theme.

I contemplated the possibilities as I drifted back to sleep. Visions of sugar plum fairies danced in my head. No wait, that's not right. They were visions of Darren Criss.

* * *

"Oh, Miranda! I'm so glad to finally get out of the house and go do something," I told my best friend happily as we walked down some random busy street in LA the following Friday night.

"I know, right? You've been spending way too much time indoors. I think your skin is starting to become translucent," she teased.

"Well some of us work for a living, and can't have perfect California tans all year round," I shot back, rolling my eyes as she looped her arm through mine Laverne and Shirley style. No one would ever have guessed we had only known each other for six months. She was the first person I met when I moved to the city. I was moving into my apartment and I almost knocked her down the stairs because I couldn't see over the box I was carrying. She was actually quite nice about it. She even helped me finish moving.

As she led me down the sidewalk, I thought about that day and smiled. She must have thought that I was a hopeless case. I was fresh out of South Carolina, sporting a ponytail, bargain store blue jean shorts, sneakers and a college sweatshirt. She was, as she always is, dressed in designer jeans and heels, make-up on and blonde hair impossibly perfect; the quintessential California girl,

In some ways, I suppose I was the yin to her yang. I've got a southern accent that I never could shake. I love clothes, but I never bought into labels. Mostly, I just let her dress me because she loved it so much. My hair is dark and my eyes are green. The most we had in common is that she was a vegetarian and I grew vegetables in planters on my balcony. You can take the girl out of the country, right?

"So where exactly are we going?" I asked her, checking out the unfamiliar surroundings. "I've never been out here."

"Oh, it's a new place," she answered, and I could have sworn there was a bit of mischief in her voice. "It just opened. Very low key, very classy. Its sort of like an open mic piano bar."

I stopped and looked at her suspiciously. "Are you serious?"

She smiled sweetly at me. "Yes, I'm serious. Why?"

"Not that you aren't classy or anything, but that doesn't sound like you at all." I narrowed my eyes at her. "What are you up to?"

"Okay, fine you caught me," she laughed, throwing her hands in the air. "David is going to be playing there tonight and I thought it would be fun if it was surprise. He's got some new material he wants to try out."

"What?" I asked incredulously. "I just saw him a few days ago, and he didn't say anything. He was all over my newest work, trying to get it for himself."

"Don't ask me to explain the way that boy's mind works, Nat."

I had to admit, she made a valid point. "Okay, well… I will act surprised. Don't worry."

She smiled in satisfaction and we continued on our walk. A few minutes later we were outside a corner brick building with a neon sign that simply said Bullfrog. I smirked at her and raised an eyebrow. "As in- Jeremiah Was a?"

She laughed and nodded. "You can't go wrong with a classic."

I shook my head and followed her through the door. It was dark inside, which I suppose I expected in a piano bar. There was a bar just inside the door to the left, and a low stage on the opposite wall. In between was a wooden floor which I guessed probably used to be a dance floor, but it was now sparsely populated with small round tables. Across the room was a raised floor with more tables. There was a pretty decent crowd for before ten o'clock to be honest.

"Swanky," I commented as I followed Miranda towards the round tables in front of the stage.

I stopped midstep as I heard a familiar piano chord. I whirled around immediately, searching for the piano that was playing the beautiful music. And there he was.

My green eyes locked with his brown ones in one truly electrifying moment. My breathing stopped and I'm sure that my mouth dropped open.

"This song is for the most beautiful girl in the bar, because I happen to know that it is her favorite song." He smiled, winked, and then began to sing.

I glared at Miranda and she bit her lip, clearly unsure whether or not I was going to lose my mind. "What the hell?"

"Okay, so I maybe lied just a little bit," she answered sheepishly, holding up her thumb and forefinger, as if I didn't know what 'a little bit' meant. "David isn't playing tonight, but he is responsible for the set up. He found out that Darren was going to be playing here tonight with some of his friends, and he got this genius idea that I should bring you. It sounded like fun, and I know that you like him."

I honestly wasn't sure if I wanted to hit her or kiss her. A little bit of both I guess, but I did neither. Instead I sat down in the chair closest to me and looked back up at the stage. I instantly regretted it. Nothing could undo me like watching a man play the piano and sing like Darren did. So full of passion, fully committing to the story that he's telling. It was beautiful. I couldn't stop the ridiculous grin from spreading all across my face.

Miranda sighed in relief and sat down in the chair next to me. "Whew, for a minute there I thought you were going to kill me."

"For a minute there, so did I," I said honestly.

We both laughed lightly, but I couldn't take my eyes off of Darren as he sang. It really wasn't that long of a song, but it felt like an eternity. When he finished, he excused himself, stood up and started to walk towards our table. As if I didn't already feel like my heart might stop.

Apparently my body has a very good autopilot system, because when he sat down next to me opposite Miranda, I smiled somewhat charmingly and managed not to completely melt onto the floor.

"Natalie," he greeted me warmly. "I'm so surprised to see you here. But extremely glad, of course."

Why in the world did he have to sound so amazing when he wasn't even singing anymore? "Its nice to see you, too," I retorted semi sarcastically. "I actually just tagged along with my friend Miranda." I gestured to my obnoxiously smug best friend.

"Hi, I'm Darren," he said politely, holding his hand across the table.

She took it and smiled. "Miranda. Its great to meet you. I'm a total Gleek."

I fought the urge to smack her across the forehead. To my relief, he laughed. "Me too. Don't tell anyone."

"My lips are sealed," she assured him. "I think I'm going to go grab a drink at the bar. I know what Nat wants. Can I bring you anything Darren?"

He shook his head. "No, thank you."

We were both silent as she walked away. When I couldn't avoid it anymore without coming across as incredibly rude, I turned and looked at him. Damn him and his incredible smile.

"I wanted to apologize for when we met a few weeks ago."

Well, that was a surprise. "What for?" I asked curiously.

"I think I came off as a bit rude when I left," he explained. "Honestly, it was a little awkward. I wasn't quite sure what the deal was between you and David Cook, and then it seemed like he was sizing me up. I felt like I was intruding."

I laughed. "Yes, he was sizing you up. But really, it was more in a brotherly kind of way."

"Are you sure? Because I don't want to get in the middle of anything."

"Trust me, there is nothing there. David is actually the one who found out that you were performing here tonight and convinced Miranda that she should bring me here as a surprise." My face was on fire. I have no idea how in the world I was having a sensible conversation with Darren Criss about how he didn't want to come between me and another guy.

"Really?" He seemed to process that information for a few moments, and then I guess he accepted it, because a slow smile spread across his handsome face. "Well in that case, I have an important question for you."

I waited for him to continue, then realize he wanted me to ask. Damn him for expecting me to be articulate. "And what is that?" I tried to give him a flirty smile, but I felt incredibly ridiculous.

I was sure my heart completely stopped as he leaned in closer to me, placing his hand on top of mine where it was resting on the table.

"Could I take you out sometime?"

Okay, the good news was that I was definitely sure at that point that none of my arteries were clogged from twenty years of eating southern fried food. If I'd had any issues whatsoever, that would have been the time for a heart attack.

"That would be…" I paused, trying to think of an appropriate word that wasn't too enthusiastic. "Fantastic." Okay, it was too enthusiastic, but I had a really hard time caring.

"That's great," he said, his smile even more unbelievable than before. "Unfortunately, I'm going out of town in a few hours. But if you could give me your number, I will call you when I get back next week."

I smiled and nodded, no longer capable of forming coherent thoughts. I reached into my purse and pulled out the small notebook I kept with me at all time, just in case I needed to write down an idea.

"No, let me see your phone."

I looked at him curiously, but put my notebook back and handed him my cell phone. He punched a few numbers, then pulled his own phone out of his pocket. He flashed the screen at me, and I saw my number as an incoming call.

"Now you have mine, too," he said, holding my phone out towards me. "Now when I call, you have to answer. No claiming you were just screening your calls."

I laughed. "No, I guess I can't say that. I can always claim I was in the shower though."

He laughed and shook his head. "No excuses, Natalie Pierce."

At that moment, Miranda returned with drinks in hand. She placed a dark drink in front of me, and began to sip on her brightly colored one. Her eyes were wide and curious as she looked back and forth between the two of us. I realized that in the time she had been gone, Darren and I had moved gradually closer to one another. I hoped I didn't blush when I noticed that.

"So what is your drink?" he asked, eyeing the glass in front of me.

I took a drink from the straw and smiled. "Disaronno sour."

"Good to know," he nodded appreciatively. "I hate to say goodbye, but I've got a few more songs left on my set and then I've got to catch a plane."

"Oh, okay," I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

"It was nice to meet you, Miranda," he said as he stood up. "And Natalie, I'm so glad that I got to see you again." He offered his hand out to me.

"I am also glad that you got to see me again," I teased, but I placed my hand in his.

Just as I had almost expected that first time we met, he lifted my hand up to his mouth and kissed my fingers lightly. I felt a jolt of electricity run through my body and couldn't stop a small but audible gasp.

He smiled and released my hand. "I will talk to you soon."

"I look forward to it," I answered, watching him wondrously as he returned to the piano on stage.

The next hour felt like we were alone in this off the wall piano bar, ridiculously named Bullfrog, and that he was singing every song to me and to only me. Of course, it was probably because we maintained intense eye contact throughout the entire performance. I think Miranda may have tried to spark up a conversation with me, but I was lost. Oh yes, I was lost for good.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The next few days were so busy for me that I hardly had time to think about my impending phone call from Darren. Miranda drug me out Saturday night, claiming that she was owed a night of "her kind of fun" in exchange for getting me a date. I could hardly argue with that.

I spent the entire day Sunday fretting over all of my notebooks and scrap paper. I had four notebooks, all with different covers. I needed to code them so that I could remember what to write down in each one. Incoherent thoughts went into the green floral one. The pink and blue striped one was for short verses and notes. I used the purple notebook with the outline of a tree on it to work out my verses with a bridge and chorus. It was for the rough draft. Only final, finished lyrics went into the blue paisley notebook. That one was my favorite. Of course I also had piles of scrap paper that I wrote on while I was visiting friends or out of the apartment anywhere.

I had meetings on Monday and Tuesday with various agents and record executives. The Break-Up Album had been such an overnight success, I had to make sure that I took advantage of every opportunity that came my way. I knew that I could only hold the spotlight for so long. Once the buzz started to fade, I had to have something in place to back it all up.

By the time Wednesday rolled around, I was exhausted. I wasn't much of a runner, but I did like to clear my head when I was feeling stressed. I was definitely stressed, waiting for call backs from my meetings. So after breakfast, I prepared to go on a run for the first time in months. I threw on my gray track pants, a green tank top and my green Nikes, then I headed outside.

It was an amazingly beautiful day. I put in my ear buds and turned Britney Spears on the iPod app on my phone. No matter what people said about her, I loved Britney. Her songs always made me want to dance. I set out down the sidewalk, intending to make a round through the park in my neighborhood and circle back. I was about halfway across the park when a terrible, awful noise came through my headphones.

"Ah!" I groaned, pulling the ear buds out of my ears. My phone was ringing and the volume was considerably louder than the sound of the music. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and checked the screen.

_Darren Criss calling._

I didn't want to smile like a fool in the middle of the park, but I couldn't help myself. I took a deep breath, put the phone to my ear and said, "Hello?"

"Why do you say it like it's a question?" came his smooth voice from the other side. "Didn't you save my number?"

I laughed weakly, still trying to catch my breath. "Of course I did. That's just the way people answer the phone."

"Really?" he asked. "Because if you called me, I'm pretty sure I would answer with 'Hello, beautiful..'"

It was completely insane that he could make me blush when he wasn't even here in person to see it. "Well, I will try to be more creative next time."

"That sounds like a plan," he laughed. "You sound out of breath. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"No, its not a bad time," I said in a hurry. "I mean, I'm at the park. I was running."

"Oh, well I'm sorry to have interrupted you," he said. "Its just that, I was having lunch with a friend and I saw this girl run by. I really wanted to let her know that she looks hot in her running pants. They're gray, and her tank top is green. Her shoes are green, too. It's you by the way. You look really hot."

By the time he got to the last sentence, I could hear his voice behind me. I whirled around and was astonished at how my memories of him in dimly lit rooms just didn't do him justice. His hair was still a haphazard mess, but his face was clean shaven. He wore jeans and a plain gray t-shirt. I was disappointed at first that his sunglasses covered up his eyes, but that allowed me to take notice of his lips without distraction.

Then I had to remind myself that he could see me, and I needed to act like a sane person. "Well, thank you," I said nervously. "This is quite a surprise."

"I know, I'm sorry to have sneaked up on you like this," he said. "I just thought that asking you out in person seemed much cooler than doing it on the phone, since the opportunity presented itself so nicely."

"It would have been nicer if I was freshly showered, but sure," I thought out loud. Okay, I needed to turn on the sensor that prevents thoughts from just escaping my mouth like that. However, I was glad that it was actually getting easier to make intelligible conversation with him.

"Well, nothing is perfect," he laughed. "I know Wednesday isn't exactly date night, but if you don't have any plans tonight I'd love to take you to dinner."

I smiled up at him. "I don't have any plans, and that sounds perfect."

"Great," he said, running his right hand back through his hair. "Let's plan on around seven, if that's okay. You can text me your address, and I will pick you."

"Seven is good," I nodded, twirling the cord from my headphones.

"Okay, well… I will see you tonight then," he smiled. "Enjoy the rest of your run."

"Okay, thanks. See you." I waited for him to turn, then I put my ear buds back in and turned the music back. It was turning out to be a fantastic day.

* * *

Later than evening, I was sitting on my bathroom counter putting the finished touched on my makeup. Miranda has invited herself over to approve my look before the date. Ordinarily I would have been annoyed, but she brought me a great pair of designer jeans to borrow. How could I be annoyed by that?

"How is this?" I asked, turning toward where she was sitting on the edge of the bathtub flipping through a magazine.

"Very nice," she nodded in approval.

I looked back in the mirror and smiled. I rarely wore makeup at all, but since it was a special occasion I let Miranda pick it all out. I was even wearing eyeliner, which was very rare for me. Unfortunately she hadn't been able to talk me into lipstick, since I didn't own any.

I hopped down off of the counter and smoothed out my (well, Miranda's) blue jeans. I was wearing a black lacy top and peep toe heels. I had considered strappy stilettos, but I didn't trust my walk in them since I was pretty sore from my run. I did a little twirl for Miranda.

"You look amazing! I'm so jealous." She clapped gleefully.

"Whatever, you are not," I laughed, checking the time on my hallway clock. "Oh you better go, he will be here any minute."

Five minutes later she was gone to her apartment upstairs and I was sitting on my couch, trying not to stare at my clock. The waiting was making me more and more nervous.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but in reality was probably only ten minutes, there was a knock on my door. I stood up, took a deep breath, plastered my best smile on my face, and opened the door.

There stood Darren Criss. He was soaking wet.

"Oh my God, what happened to you?" I asked, wide eyed.

"Would you believe me if I said I swam here?" he shrugged with a half smile.

"No, not even a little bit," I answered in awe. "Is it raining?"

"I wouldn't call that raining. Its more like a monsoon. This happened to me just walking from a cab into your building," he explained.

"Wow, the soundproofing in this apartment is really stellar," I commented, looking out toward my balcony. The blinds were closed so I couldn't see anything.

"I just wanted to show you proof before I go home to change, so you wouldn't think I was cancelling on you."

My heart dropped. Of course this meant our date would have to be cancelled. There was no way he could go out like that. He would never dry, and he probably would catch pneumonia. My mind raced as I tried to think of ways to save the night.

"Well we could just eat here," I suggested. "I've got a dryer and I can put your clothes in it."

He laughed. "And I can just walk around your apartment naked?"

_Um, yes please_, I thought, and I could feel the blush on my cheeks as soon as I pictured the scene in my head. "Well, no. But I bet I have something that you could wear. It won't be nearly as stylish as your own clothes, though." I laughed in an attempt to cover my embarrassment.

He looked down at the puddle he was now standing it. "Okay, well, if you think you have something for me to wear."

I led him very quickly to my bathroom so that he could drip on the tile floor and not the carpet, then went to my room to search for something that would fit him. I found a pair of old college sweatpants and a t-shirt in a box in the top of my closet. I took them to him and smiled. "I hope you're a fan of College of Charleston."

"Oh yes, they're my favorite," he laughed, taking them from me.

A few minutes later he came out of the bathroom, wet clothes in his arms. I took them from him and put them in the dryer. "They will be dry and warm in about forty five minutes."

"Awesome," he smiled.

"So, what do you want for dinner?" I asked, walking back into the kitchen.

"I'm not picky," he shrugged. "What delivers around here?"

I turned and raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, no sir. There will be no delivery. I am a cook."

He laughed. "Oh, I'm sorry, I had no idea. Then I will have whatever the house special is."

I opened the refrigerator and looked to see what options I had. "Are you allergic to anything? Hate anything in particular?" I paused and looked at him suspiciously. "Are you opposed to lots of butter?"

"Are we talking buttery food, or Paula Dean kind of butter?" he asked.

I laughed and shook my head. "Not that much, I promise."

"Okay, well, I am just fine with whatever you want to make. I told you, I'm not picky."

"Alright," I said, pulling various ingredients out of the fridge. Then I opened the pantry, pulling out a blue and green paisley apron and putting it on.

"No way, you cook in an apron?" he asked incredulously.

"Well of course," I laughed. "I am a southern lady, right? Besides, I don't want to get my clothes messy."

"Touché," he acknowledged. "I think its adorable."

"Well, thank you." I smiled. "By the way, I'm just going to give you a fair warning, I'm not a great multitasked. I can totally listen to you while I cook, but I won't be very good at conversation."

"Ha, well alright then, I guess I will just tell you a story then," he said.

As he told me about what he did while he was out of town for the weekend, I prepared to bake parmesan crusted chicken and set green beans to boil on the stovetop. Once the oven was warm, I put the chicken as well as two potatoes in and set the timer.

"Okay," I said, taking my apron off and placing it back on the hook inside the pantry door. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour. Do you want to go sit in the living room while we wait?"

He nodded and followed me to the couch. As we sat down, he said, "Oh, I think you have a piece of parmesan in your hair."

He leaned closer to me and ran one of his hands through the side of my hair. I felt my eyes widen, my breath caught in my throat and my mouth parted. He was so electrifyingly close to me, I thought that I might pass out.

A few seconds passed before I realized that we were stuck this way. He smiled sheepishly. "I'm just messing with you." His eyes shifted from mine down to my parted lips and then back up again. "There's nothing in your hair."

"Oh." It was weak, but it was a word, and it was the only word I could manage under the circumstances.

We were frozen this way for a moment, then the hand he'd had in my hair moved around to the back of my head and gently moved me forward. My eyes closed in anticipation, and apparently that was all the encouragement he needed.

In a fraction of a second, his lips were against mine. My sensed were overwhelmed from being in such close proximity. His lip were oh so luxuriously soft, and he smelled amazing. Much too soon he pulled back slightly.

My eyes fluttered open, and I was glad to see that he was still very close. I smiled nervously.

"I think I was supposed to wait until the end of the date to kiss you," he whispered.

"I'll try not to judge you for it," I answered. Then in a very rare moment of self confidence, I added, "If you don't judge me for this."

I closed the gap between us and reunited our lips, putting a big more pressure behind the kiss than there had been in the first one. Immediately the hand he'd had on the back of my head moved to the small of my back. I responded by placing one of my hands on his shoulder and the other on the nape of his neck, pulling him closer.

I found myself suddenly wondering what his hair felt like. I ran my hand up the back of his neck and into his hair. I thought it would be soft, but it was actually a bit course. Unexpected, but it seemed right. I still loved the way it felt, and I pulled on it slightly.

He groaned softly against my mouth, shifting his body so that one of his legs was on the couch. He pulled me closer to him with the hand on my back, slowly leaning me back onto the couch. As I laid down, I used the hand I had on his shoulder to grip his shirt and pull him down with me.

At that point, it was like my body started acting without permission from my brain. One of my legs wrapped around his leg, and I kissed him feverously. I was thinking so little that I was hardly even aware of the fact that he was kissing me just as enthusiastically.

After a few minutes, I had to turn my head in order to catch my breath. When I did, he began to kiss my neck. I couldn't contain a small moan as his lips traced up my jaw line to my ear lobe.

Suddenly, he stopped and pulled back so that he was propped above me on his arms. "Okay, we've got to take a break."

I nodded in agreement, still trying to get into a steady breathing pattern. He lifted himself off of me and we both resumed our original sitting positions.

"I'm sorry," I said at last. "I don't know what came over me."

"Oh no," he shook his head, putting his hand on my leg. "Please don't be sorry. That was… amazing."

I looked at him dubiously. Then I saw a slight change of shade in his cheeks, as if he was blushing.

"It just that," he ran his hand through his hair, "since my clothes are in the dryer, I'm not wearing any underwear. And that was about to be a really awkward first date moment."

If I could have helped it, I wouldn't have laughed, but I burst out into a fit of hysteria. "Wow, this date sure makes an interesting story, doesn't it?" I asked.

"That it does," he agreed.

"I'm just going to go check on your clothes," I said, still smiling. When I checked the dryer, I found that his clothes were ready. Within the next ten minutes, he had gotten dressed and I had gotten dinner onto plates. It was nearly nine by the time we ate, and we were both famished. We didn't talk a lot during dinner, but it was a comfortable silence. I supposed the ice had been broken after our little make out session.

The end of our date was much more tame and normal than the beginning, that's for sure. After dinner we made light conversation, and then he had to leave because he had to be in the recording studio early the next morning.

As he started to walk out the door, I followed him and he leaned against the door frame. He reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear. I smiled in return. He leaned in and gave me a very light kiss on the lips, then pulled back. "I had a really great time tonight."

"So did I," I practically beamed at him.

"I would love to have our second date very soon."

I was taken aback by the intensity of his stare. "So would I."

He smiled, his gaze softening. He leaned in one more time and gave me another, slightly firmer kiss. "Goodnight, Natalie."

"Goodnight, Darren."

"I will call you tomorrow." And with that, he turned and left.

I went back inside and shut the door. I leaned against the wall, smiling, closing my eyes and resisting the urge to squeal. "Best first date, ever."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"I need to know all the details!" Miranda exclaimed, bursting into my bedroom the next morning.

I nearly jumped out of bed. "What the hell is wrong with you and David lately?"

She smiled brightly, dropping down onto the bed next to me. She laid on her side and propped herself up on one elbow. "Where did you go? Did he kiss you? Was it amazing?"

I smiled despite my anger at being woken up in such a violent manner. "Nowhere, yes and _yes_." I sighed a deep and dreamy sigh when I said the last word, closing my eyes to remember the feel of Darren's lips on mine.

"Wait," she said, her eyes widening. "You went _nowhere_? Like... you stayed here?" She gestered around the bedroom.

I laughed. "Well, not in here!"

She wiggled her eyebrows at me suggestively. "Natalie!"

"No!" I said, trying hard not to smile so big. I knew it was making me look guilty. "He got completely soaked by the rain storm, so we couldn't go out. I dried his clothes for him and cooked dinner here."

If it was possible, her grin got even bigger. "And what, may I ask, was he wearing while you died his clothes?"

"My sweatpants and a t-shirt!" I laughed, giving her a playful shove. "Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"Um, you've been obsessing over him for months, and then suddenly he's naked in your apartment. Can you blame a girl for jumping to conclusions?" she said, rolling off the bed into a standing position. "Let's go get breakfast and you can tell me all about. I've got such a craving for a bagel, and I know this great place a few blocks down."

"Mmmm," I smiled, stretching and getting out from under the covers. "I love bagels. David said he found a great place, too. I wonder if its the same place you know."

She shrugged, tossing a pair of tennis shoes at me. "Maybe so. Let's go!"

I laughed. "You think I'm going out in my pajamas? No way. I can be ready in ten minutes."

Half an hour later, Miranda and I were sitting at a table outside of a place called Bagelicious. "Only you would go into a place with licious in the name," I teased her.

"Licious in the title is synonymous with the food being delicious," she defended herself as she took a bite of her blueberry bagel with cream cheese. "Do you disagree?"

I shook my head as I chewed my everything bagel and twirled my finger around the twirly emblem on my coffee cup. "I do not; this bagel is amazing. It's just as good as the one that David brought me last week, but I don't think this is the place because the coffee is different."

"So, you haven't told me all the intimate details of your kiss," she reminded me impatiently.

I felt the color rush to my cheeks. Apparently I was in fact a blusher. "It's not... public forum appropriate."

"NATALIE!" she exclaimed, causing several people to turn around and look at us.

I covered my face with my hands. "What is wrong with you?"

"Was clothing removed? You know, aside from him changing his clothes."

I shook my head. "No."

"Then why can't you tell me about it? As far as I'm concerned, if clothing is still on then it's family friendly!" she nodded as if encouraging me to tell her everything.

I sighed and began to recount our make-out session on the couch. Talking about it meant reliving it, and reliving it was pretty awesome. Still, I made an effort to keep my voice low and shot her a warning look whenever her giggling got out of hand.

Right about the time I got to the part where we were about to sit down and eat, a pair of hands went over my eyes from behind. "Oh my God!" I shouted, nearly jumping out of my skin.

"Guess who," a smooth voice whispered in my ear.

I smiled as my body relaxed. "Someone who almost gave me a heart attack?"

"How did you know?" Darren pulled his hands away and kissed me on the cheek. "I'm sorry to interrupt your breakfast but I saw you while we were walking by. Of course I had to stop and say hello."

I turned to look at him and smiled. He was wearing faded jeans and a white t-shirt. It killed me how he could be so casual and still look so amazing. "Well, I'm glad you did. I thought you were recording this morning."

He nodded, gesturing to the guy standing beside him. I have no idea how I didn't notice him before, because it was definitely Chord Overstreet. "We were in the studio for about three hours this morning, but we're free for another hour or so before we have to go back."

"Have you had breakfast?" I asked. "You can join us." I looked at Miranda who nodded enthusiastically.

"We ate pretty early, but we'd still love to hang out, right, Chord?" Darren said, looking over his shoulder.

"Of course," Chord answered. "I'm Chord." He held his hand out to me.

I took it and returned his smile. "Natalie."

"Nice to meet you, Natalie." He turned to Miranda and graced her with an even more charming smile than he'd given me. "And you are?"

"Miranda," she said sweetly, taking his hand as well.

"Pretty name," he commented, turning a chair from a neighboring table and sitting on it backwards.

Darren sat down in the chair next to me. "Sorry, he can't turn the charm off. It's a curse."

"And a blessing," Chord chimed in.

Darren rolled his eyes. "So what do you ladies have planned for the day?"

I shrugged, looking at Miranda. "My original plan had been to be asleep at this exact moment, but apparently that plan was foiled."

"What?" he laughed. "It's almost ten."

"I'm not a morning person," I admitted.

"I used to not be a morning person," Chord said. "Then I started on Glee and my definition of morning changed. That happens when you have to be on set at four am."

I winced. "I could never do that. I might actually die."

Darren shook his head. "Well, does that mean you're a night person?"

"More like mid-afternoon," I laughed.

"I'll keep that in mind." His eyes locked with mine and for a moment the rest of the world was lost.

"Ahem," Chord cleared his throat, bringing us back to the conversation. "We are going to check out a new club in Hollywood tonight. Do you girls want to come with?"

I looked at Miranda questioningly. I expected her to look so excited she could burst, but she actually looked uncomfortable. I raised my eyebrows at her and she smiled weakly. "Sure. If you want to, Nat."

I nodded. "Sounds fun."

"Great," Darren smiled, putting his hand over mine where it was resting on the table. "We've got to be heading back to the studio, but I'll call you later."

"Okay," I said, disappointed to see him go.

Chord stood up first, waving at us. "Bye ladies." He glanced at Miranda and smiled broadly. "See you later."

She smiled back and waved.

Darren stood up as well and looked down at me, smiling and tucking my hair behind my ear. I almost melted. "Bye Natalie." He leaned down and gave me a light kiss on the lips.

"Bye," I practically whispered as he and Chord walked down the street.

I turned to look at Miranda. She had a strange smile on her face, but she gushed, "He just kissed you in public!"

I covered my hands with my face to hide my red face. "I know. I know."

"Come on," she said, standing up. "We've got a lot to do to get ready!"

We were talking up the stairs to the apartments when my phone rang. I looked at the screen and saw a photo of David. "Hey!" I answered cheerfully.

"Kiss any hot celebrities lately?" he asked.

"What?" I asked, unlocking my door. "How did you know?"

"The same way the rest of the world knows," he laughed. "Somebody snapped a picture of you and Darren kissing with a cell phone and posted it on TMZ."

"Are you serious?" I exclaimed, slapping my forehead with my hand. "Oh no!"

"What's wrong?" Miranda asked, following me inside.

"Somebody took a picture of Darren kissing me and posted it on TMZ!" I told her. "Do you think he will be mad?"

"Why would he be mad?" David and Miranda both asked at the same time.

"I don't know," I said. "Don't celebrities hate Hollywood gossip?"

"Well if he was trying to keep you a secret, he shouldn't have kissed you in public," Miranda laughed. "I'm sure he won't care."

"Is that Miranda with you?" David asked.

"Yes," I nodded, even though he couldn't see me.

"There were pictures of her up, too. Looked like you guys were on a double date or something."

My eyes widened. "Miranda, your picture is up, too. David said it looked like we were on a double date with Darren and Chord."

Her smile faded. "Oh, no."

I sighed. "Well, thanks for letting us know, David."

"No problem," he said. "I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, bye," I said, hanging up. "Are you okay?"

Miranda nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay. But while I'm trying to break into modeling, this isn't really the kind of exposure I had in mind."

"All publicity is good publicity, right?" I asked, trying to make her feel better. "Besides, Chord is really cute."

She smiled, shaking her head at me. "Yes, of course he is. I'm gonna go get a shower. I'll come by later to get ready."

I nodded, yawing and looking at the clock. "I'm gonna take a nap. I'll see you later!"

She nodded, waving at me over her shoulder as she rushed out of the apartment. I barely had time to think about how weird she was acting before I was asleep on the couch, dreaming about a night out with Darren and being chased by paparazzi.


End file.
